


Inspiration Point

by virtualpersonal



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Het, Humor, Light-Hearted, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they first run into each other at a rustic bar, Buffy and Dean wish they had more time to learn each others' mysteries. Little do they know that they'll need each other to accomplish the mission they're on. Short, mostly light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)  
>  Many thanks to lightthesparks for allowing us to use her beautiful manip
> 
> Co-written with Catscorner

The Raven Rock Saloon was definitely not the sort of place she usually hung out at, not at all. It was located deep in the forest an hour from Sunnydale, and it was rustic... like it belonged in some backwoods state. There was an actual swinging door, a piano that someone was banging on but could hardly be heard over the laughter and talking, and men who looked like they should be out hunting. Only reason she was here was that she was waiting until it got closer to midnight, then she'd head out to Inspiration Point. Until then... she was at the bar, nursing her malibu coke, and disinterestedly looking over the crowd. 

She was playing with the liquid in her glass, mixing it around, when a movement caught her eye and she turned her head slightly, he hair slipping over her eyes. A new guy had just come in, and she could just make out his features in the dark. Rugged, but good looking. Who was she kidding, he was smoking hot... even if she weren't comparing him against the mostly grizzly lookin' guys in the place. 

Her breath hitched, and she wasn't aware of it until the lack of oxygen registered. A strange warmth flowed through her system, worried her. It wasn't very often that she saw a guy and immediately felt attracted, not like this. 

Lifting her glass, she took a long swallow, but found that her eyes were still focused on him. He was damned confident, the way he walked to the other end of the bar, like he owned the place. The way he smiled at a couple of the women who were pretending they weren’t looking. The way he leaned over and pushed one of the women's curtain of hair away and whispered in her ear. 

Feeling like she was watching something too private, she finally pulled her gaze away. Job. She had a job to do, and eyeing the bar's finest wasn't one of them. 

Dean signaled for a beer without breaking eye contact with the cougar on the barstool. She had a few years on him, but all the curves were in the right place and there was something to be said for a woman that knew her way around a good vinyl collection. A few exchanged words and deliberate touches and he had her. He could have gone back to her place right now if he wasn’t just killing time until Sam figured out where they were supposed to be. 

Turning so his back was to the bar, he tipped the bottle back and took a long drink while he surveyed the rest of the bar. Before the bottle came back down, his gaze locked on a blonde that stood out from the gritty backdrop like a cherry hotrod at a demolition derby. “Well hello…” he muttered under his breath as his mouth pulled into a smirk. The cougar already forgotten, the hunter levered up from the bar and headed straight for the girl that had caught his eye. 

Moving in next to her, his smirk never wavering, he touched the curtain of gold and moved it out of her face. “So what’s a fine lookin’ girl like you doing in a dump like this?” 

Buffy's heart shouldn't be skipping beats, no way. Not when she'd just seen him use the exact same technique with a woman who would make a great date for someone old, like Giles. He'd probably told that woman the same thing too, so shouldn't she be gritting her teeth and tell him to buzz off? And why wasn't she? 

"Having a drink and wondering if that's pick-up line twenty-two or twenty-three, in your book." Raising an eyebrow, she didn't move away. He had to know that it was a lame line, and that she'd just seen him with the other girl. 

“Don’t have a book. It’d be a crime to write these gems down… someone might steal them,” he answered without missing a beat. Damn but she was fine. Confident. Not the least bit intimidated. Had to love that. He eyed her drink and smelled the rum. “Malibu, huh?” He took a swig of his beer. “Seriously, though. What’s Barbie doing in Deliverance country? Shouldn’t you be fixing up your dream home with Ken?” 

If anyone else had called her Barbie, she'd have been as pissed off as when people called her 'cheerleader.' But somehow, this guy could get away with it. Bet he got away with a lot, he was just _that_ smooth, but not in a smarmy way. 

Her gaze traveled up and down his body, same as she felt when he'd looked her up and down. "Maybe I'm looking for GI Joe," she winked. Winked... _she winked?_ How the hell had he gotten her to do that? She wasn't a winking kinda girl! 

Dean let out a low chuckle. A cocksure glance down at his father’s green army jacket and then he locked his gaze back on hers, returning the wink. Chicks liked that. “Guess you found him. You have a place around here?” What the hell was he doing? Sam would kill him if he went off with this girl. But she didn’t seem like the type that would appreciate the romantic atmosphere of the Raven Rock crapper. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw a hulking lumberjack guy approach. Instinctively, he moved to place himself between him and Barbie, but that didn’t stop the guy from bellowing out in a drunken slur. “Hey baby, you said you weren’t looking for a date. But here I find you making moon eyes at this city slicker? Come on… how’s about we have that dance.” 

As he reached around to grab Barbie’s arm, Dean reacted without thinking – tucking into the larger man, he slipped under his arm in a twist that cocked lumberjack’s arm behind his back. Cinching it up tight, Dean growled from behind him. “I’m not a city slicker pal…” 

"You're mad because he called you a city slicker?" Buffy cocked her head, unsure whether to laugh or be insulted. Then the guy started to turn, and he was about twice the size of GI Joe so she didn't want them getting into it. It would be a shame for the best looking guy in the bar to walk away with a bruised face. 

Slipping off the barstool, she touched her would-be hero's shoulder. "Let him go, but guard my drink. This place is full of freaks." Her eyes were on the portly man, making it clear who she was talking about. 

No way in hell he was going play the pussy and make Barbie dance with this Deliverance cast-off just to avoid a fight. “Just sit that fine ass back down. I got this covered,” Dean said with an easy smile as he jerked up on the man’s arm and started to drag him back. But he’d underestimated the sheer strength of the guy who was looking more like Paul Bunyan once he’d managed to jerk his arm free and had a ham sized fist coming straight for his face. 

Dodging, Dean caught the blow on his shoulder and was already reeling around in full brawl mode ready to take his own swing, but his fist found nothing but air. Instead, he was stunned to see the tiny blonde Barbie flinging Paul Bunyan over her shoulder and body slamming him into the rickety bar floor that shook under their feet. 

Buffy stood over the groaning idiot, smirking slightly. "That would be 'no' ... in Grizzly Adams-talk." Nodding, she reached for her drink, finished it, and walked past GI Joe, her gaze clashing with his brilliant greens. Maybe if she hadn't had a job to do... maybe if Giles' voice weren't so loud in her head... maybe ... 

Having watched Dean, and now seeing he was about to go after superchick, Sam closed his lap top and quickly walked over to grab Dean's arm. That innocent look in his brother's eyes didn't fool him. "Okay, I got something. I'll tell you on the way up to Inspiration Point." 

Dragging his gaze from the blonde’s retreating form with some effort, Dean looked at Sam. “Lousy timing Sam… as always,” he sighed. “Did you see that chick?! Damn…” he shook his head, hunching his shoulders and jamminghis hands in his pockets as they strode out of the bar. 

* * * 

“You saw her right? I wasn’t dreaming…” Dean was still going on about the girl from the bar as he pulled the Impala onto the dirt road that lead out to the point. 

"Yeah Dean, I saw her," Sam shook his head. "Dude it’s not my timing, it's just that you're always picking up chicks." He had to admit she had some pretty fancy moves, and a part of him was convinced that like them, she was a hunter. 

“Yeah, but this one. Damn, Sam… Did you see the way she laid out that lumberjackass? You think she’s from that town we came through to get here? Sunnydale? I should have gotten her number…” his said as his thumbs tapped out the beat to AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” as it blared on the stereo. 

“Okay, so this is it, huh?” he slowed the car as the headlights silhouetted the other cars that were already parked at the look-out. “Bobby says some beastie is supposed to jump out of the bushes and chow down on some unsuspecting couple… what? Once every ten years? Or some special planetary alignment or some shit? Seems like a pretty easy gig.” He pulled the car to a stop and flicked off the radio and lights. 

Sam looked out the window, and saw all the headlights dotting the darkness. "Sure... easy, unless it.... whatever it is, picks on another car." He should have known there would be others who were parked, that's why the place was called Inspiration Point. "I think you should go scare them into going home, you're much better at these things." Yeah, he didn't want to knock on windows and catch glimpses of too much skin. "Just think of it as free porn." 

“Heh. I’m on it, little bro.” Dean was about to get out when he realized the headlights were moving. One by one, the cars were backing out and turning around to leave. “Huh. Well that’s weird…” squinting out through the windshield, he thought he saw a figure coming toward them and he leaned over Sam to wipe the steamed up window so he could see out the passenger side. 

Buffy came face to face with GI Joe himself. She didn't know which of them were more startled, but when the window rolled down and she saw he was sitting with a _guy_ , it had to be her. "GI... Jane?" Tilting her head to the side, she searched his face, then his boyfriend's. "Not that there's anything wrong with..." 

“You!” Dean jerked away from the window, but when he realized what she was implying, his face screwed up in a look of utter disgust. “You mean Sam? Oh… NO…. No. and HELL no,” Dean shook his head sharply. “Did I mention no? That’s just… Eeesh,” he looked at Sam and visibly shuddered. “Just wrong on so many levels.” 

"What is?" Sam looked between Dean and his blonde. The look on her face... "Ah, what he said. Hell no. Seriously," he almost plead with her to believe because he knew how it had to look.


	2. Chapter 2

"Right cause this is just your baby brother and you were... just ... bringing him to see the sights. At Inspiration Point." She nodded. "Gotcha."

 

"Dean I don't think..." Sam looked at his brother for help.

 

“Jesus Sam, you’re not helping!” Dean scrubbed his hand over his face to mentally regroup. “Yes, he’s my brother, God dammit. And what you’re thinking…, just get it right out of that pretty little ass kicking blonde head of yours.” He narrowed his gaze as another car sped off behind her and he remembered why they were there. “And just what the Hell are _you_ doing up here, Barbie?” he turned her question right back on her. “Watching the submarine races all by your lonesome?”

 

"No, I'm not _watching,_ " she shot back, tossing her head back. "You... both of you need to get out of here. Turn the car on, and drive out. Follow those cars," she said, a little miffed at the question. "This isn't a joke, it could save your lives." Ugh... she sounded like a damned commercial.

 

“Thanks for the PSA, toots,” Dean shot right back. “But we’re not going anywhere. Not until we bag what we came for.” He looked over at his brother and knew Sam was thinking exactly what he was thinking. This chick was a hunter. “We got this one handled. Now why don’t you just leave me your number and head on back to Malibu. Wouldn’t want you to break a nail or anything.”

 

"Break a nail... that's funny." Her blue eyes glittered. Who were these guys? She could tell they were here for the same reason, but that didn't tell her much. "You boys wannabe scoobs? Amateur demon hunters? Look, this one's dangerous, and you're not even doing it right."

 

"No, it wasn't funny. Don't listen to my brother," Sam said trying to unruffle her feathers. "Scoobs. Okay, you take that one," he told Dean.

 

“We’re not wannabe amateur anythings…” Dean huffed. Okay, so maybe since they didn’t get paid they were technically amateurs, but they made a living well enough. “And what do you mean we’re not doing it right? You’re the one flapping your gums out there when this… what’d you call it Sammy? Gilgabeast? Hilgabeast? Whatever. It always takes two. I only see one of you. Unless you have a twin? In which case… Damn, sweetheart, I definitely want that number of yours.”

 

"You know what it is?" She was impressed, but trying to cover it. That, and with the not too pleased by the fact he'd called her out. "It takes two... at Inspiration Point. Not _just_ any two," she said pointedly. "If you wanna play my bait, start fogging up the windows." She started to step back, hoping they'd leave so she could do her work.

 

Sam raised his hand. "I know, I know, you're not fogging up the windows with me," he sighed. His brother was so damned predictable sometimes.

 

“Damn straight…” Dean sat back and folded his arms across his chest to wait this thing out.

 

While Sam pulled out his laptop and did more research, Dean kept a close eye on Barbie as she paced the length of the look-out area. Somehow she managed to look utterly casual, but having seen her fight, he knew she was like a cat, ready to spring into action. But she didn’t even have any weapons. How the hell did she think she was going to take this beast down? With her bare hands? Fucking _girl_ driving him to distraction. He had to get his head back in the game before he got sloppy.

 

Letting out a long breath, Dean abruptly got out of the car. “I’ll be back.”

 

Gripping his sawed off shotgun, Dean moved around to the trunk of the Impala and rummaged around for a weapon he thought she could handle before heading over to female hunter. “Even Barbie gets accessories, right?” he palmed the hilt of a wicked dagger and held it out for her.

 

She looked at the knife glinting under the moonlight, then took it, tossing it up and catching it. "Nice." Feeling his gaze on her, she added, "thanks. For the... accessory. You're not gonna leave here, not even if I ask you real nice," she added, knowing the answer.

 

“Nope,” Dean answered giving her a steady look. “But don’t let that stop you…” he moved a little closer, tilting his head and giving her a smile. “...from trying to persuade me."

 

As he moved into her personal space, Buffy's breath caught. His warm breath fanned her face as he made what should be a completely innocent statement sound... so damned sexy. She licked her lips, swayed from side to side, then leaned in, speaking against his ear. "I was thinking... I could offer not to knock you on your ass."

 

"That's good..." he nodded, swallowing past the jolt of arousal that lit a fire in his groin when her lips brushed his ear. "Just keep your focus on my ass and let me do the heavy lifting here." He pulled back suddenly to get some much needed space between them. "Got that sweetheart?" he winked and tossed the shotgun from one hand to the other before cocking it. Dragging his eyes from hers, he looked up at the crescent moon and its position in the sky just over the treeline. "According to Sam's research, we should have company any minute."

 

 _Got that sweetheart?_ Why wasn't she decking him already? Why was it that instead of anger, she felt a sense of excitement? This was wrong, very very wrong. She needed to tell him to get in his car and drive off. Taking a sidelong look at him, though, she realized she couldn't really peg him as an amateur or anything. It wasn't just the weapons, but he had the knowledge... he'd done his research, or his man Sam had. This was no different than patrolling with the scoobs, except of course, for that whole... 'having a hard time concentrating' thing.

 

"Say that again when your ass is in trouble," she muttered, her lips curving slightly as her gaze glanced off his backside. Bet he had eyes in the back of his head too. She was about to walk between a couple of trees to take up a different position when the sound of the car door slamming had her turning around.

 

Sam's long strides got him to them quickly. "Not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked, putting his palm against the rough bark of a tree and looking at both of them. "We've got an... issue. It's not just taking 'anyone' or just any couples. Let's put it this way, there's not a damn thing you and I," he wagged a finger between himself and Dean, "can do to get it's attention, but ah... maybe something that you and ah... Buffy... can," he said, this time pointing at her and his brother.

 

Dean looked at Sam and then Buffy, not getting it. "Spit it out Sammy... what are you saying?" 

 

"Yeah... I'm not getting it," Buffy agreed, watching Sam who seemed a bit... nervous.

 

"Okay... yeah." Sam cleared his throat. "I think pheromones are what attract this thing. So..."

 

Tilting her head back, Buffy gave both of them a look of disbelief, then gave Sam a piercing glare. "He put you up to this."

 

"No.. it's not a... Dean." He looked at his brother. This was _his_ friend, after all. Not like he'd wanted to come and give them the news or anything. 

 

Dean raised a brow at his brother, a beat passing before the other one joined it along with a roguish smirk. "Pheromones? That right Sammy?" his gaze swiveled to Buffy and he waggled his brows. "What do you say, Barbie? How's about we whip up some fatal attraction so we can bag us a beastie." With a cock-sure smile firmly in place, he took a step toward Buffy and gave his brother a look and toss of his head that said 'beat it.'

 

"Wait... hang on..." she put her hand out to keep Dean from getting close. "You serious about this?"

 

Sam nodded. "Yeah, dead serious. I have it up on my computer screen if you want to see it." He turned to Dean. "And another thing. It regenerates within an hour of being killed. Fire alone won't do it, I checked. There's got to be hydrochloric acid in the mix."

 

"He's your Willow." Even without checking, Buffy found herself believing.

 

Sam's gaze went to her. "No, I'm _Sam_." Alright, now he wasn't so sure of leaving Dean with her.

 

"What's a Willow?" Dean looked confused. "That some sort of metaphor or something? Because if you're still thinking we're..." Dean grimaced and visibly shuddered. "I told you. He's my _brother_ and I'm not gay!" A sharp look to Sam and he added, "Now make with the scram so I can prove it," he dug inside his pockets for the keys to the Impala, but stopped short of tossing them when he saw the only car left at the lookout was an old beat up Volkswagen Bug. Just like that, the smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth as he fixed Buffy with a look. "Give him your wheels for the acid run. We'll need a decent back-seat for this mission."

 

"A back seat for what... oh." She felt a warmth slip up to her cheeks but shook her head free of the images his words painted in her head. Wasn't like they had to do anything 'for real.' They could pretend. Yeah... there had to be pheromones floating around already, without the need to... just imagining his mouth sucking on her sensitive throat sent her thoughts scattering to the winds.

 

"Keys... one of you." Sam cocked his head.

 

"Ah... yeah." She quickly dug into her back pocket and then tossed them to him. "Willow's a friend. She good at research, maybe you two could... you know, research together some time."

 

"Sure." One last 'beat it' look from his brother had Sam sighing and heading for her car. He just hoped he would fit inside the damned thing.

 

"Guess we're up." She tried not to sound nervous as she looked over at him.

 

"I know I am anyway..." And it was the truth. His eyes dropped down her body and he unconsciously shifted his weight from one foot to the other as his cock strained against his jeans. Christ, and he hadn't even touched her yet. He made a mental note to kiss Bobby's feet for the tip on this monster gig.

 

She gave him a look, but that didn't mean her heart hadn't jumped or that she didn't feel the heat rising between them. The look on his face though, so damned sure of himself and with good reason. Great... the things she got herself into when Giles wasn't around.

 

Having folded himself up into the bug, Sam started up the beater and it puttered away. By the time they reached the Impala and Dean opened the door, the sounds of the Volkswagen drifted in the distance and they were left with the silence of the plateau that overlooked the canyon.


	3. Chapter 3

"You on the bottom, and watch the gun," she said, trying to regain control in the situation. Regain... ha... when had she had control?

 

"You like to be on top, huh?" he leaned against the open door frame. "I can work with that..." he waited until she'd come up right next to him to follow him into the car before changing things up and flipping her around so she was backed up against the car. Setting the shotgun on the trunk behind her, he pressed against her, their lips only separated by his slightly ragged breath. "But you're going to have to keep an eye on the gun," he told her, grinding his hips into her to drive his point home as his mouth came over hers in a smoldering kiss. 

 

A protest, she'd expected. Action... not so much. Her back was pressed up against the hard metal, and then they were touching... all over. The hard knot of his arousal against her stomach wreaked all sorts of havoc with her senses. He wasn't kidding... about his gun. She got that now, got it as their mouths met, got it as she opened her mouth to him, and got it as she pushed against him, fighting to get closer. Her arms slipped around his shoulders, her fingers digging into his clothes and flesh as she kissed him back, her tongue tangling with his. Her pulse raced out of control, her body sent all sorts of messages... messages that had no place on a mission, but this guy... what was it about him?

 

A soft moan broke from her as he pulled away briefly to let them breathe. "We're... we're just acting, right?" she asked, eyes locking and clashing with his. "I mean this is..." The hell it was. Buffy swayed toward him again, giving the woods a cursory look before she brought her lips down messily over his, seeking the incredible heat of his mouth. His tongue met hers, twisted around, and then they were taking turns invading each others' mouths. "Dean..." she whispered his name when their lips parted, taking in a deep breath. 

 

"Method actor, huh?" he smiled against her neck as his hands came around to her ass to lift her up so she was seated on the trunk. As her legs came around his waist and cinched him closer, he released a low groan. "Academy awarding winning performance..." Fingers tangled in her hair and he kissed her again, their mission all but forgotten until he felt her body tense suddenly and she pulled back, green eyes trained on the treeline over his shoulder. 

 

"What?" the whispered question came on a ragged exhale. "Is it...?" 

 

Oh God, she wanted to scream. You'd think that thing would need _more_ pheromones or have better timing. Taking a couple of breaths, and still hanging on to him slightly, she nodded. "Heard something." She couldn't tell from where, but... "something's here." Leaning in, she kissed his throat, her eyes searching the darkness, doing her best to concentrate even when all she really wanted to do was pull him inside the damned car and just... just finish what they'd started.

 

Believing her even though he couldn't hear anything himself, Dean reached for the shotgun behind her, gripping it with one hand while the other cupped the back of her neck. His already aroused body surged with adrenaline, but he didn't move from his position. When nothing happened, he moved his hips to grind against her. "Just trying to get it to come out and play," he whispered in explanation, his mouth hot against her ear. 

 

"I think it's already out an playing," she answered in a shaky voice, her legs knees instantly clenching to lock him into place. His arousal was lodged between her legs, making her ache and want to move against him so bad. Time stretched. All she could hear was her breaths and his, felt his warm against her skin. She felt him move again, slightly... to damned lightly against her. Her fingers dug into him. "I'm about one minute from..."

 

Lucky for her, before she could tell him she wanted to pretty much ride him, a loud roaring sound came at them. Before she even pushed him away, he'd already taken a couple steps away, with the rifle in hand. She jumped down, more than conscious of the dampness between her legs. "Bet it's used to people running."

 

"Guess it's in for a surprise then," Dean smirked as he unloaded a round into what he assumed was its gut, the shotgun blast echoing through the canyon. His plan was to take the thing out without too much flash so he could get back to business. But even with a hole clean through its middle, the beast was only momentarily stunned and continued advancing on them. Like some kind of chameleon, its thick hide shifted from black to silver as it moved from the shadows of the forest into the moonlight.

 

"Motherfucker," he cursed at the ineffectiveness of his weapon, instinctively moving between the monster and Buffy. For his second round he aimed higher in hopes of taking off its head.

What the... Seeing that the bullets did nothing to it, Buffy didn't have much expectations as she threw the knife he'd given her, aiming it for the thing's chest. It sank into the things hide, its hilt sticking out, but the creature didn't pay it any attention. "Wouldn't mind being on acid duty right about now," she said, flashing him a look before taking off for the creature.

 

She'd just about reached it when it disappeared into thin air, though a draft hit her in the face telling her she hadn't imagined that. "Dean," she whipped around to see the thing right behind the hunter. "Right there," she shouted, heading back toward it. 

 

"What the...?" Without thinking, Dean reacted to Buffy's warning, pulling a hard spin that gave him enough momentum to slam the heel of the shotgun into the thing's neck. The blow yielded a satisfying crunch and yowl before it disappeared again. "What the fuck. Sam forgot to mention this part..." he said breathlessly as Buffy reached him and they instinctively turned back to back so they'd be ready when it appeared again. "It's got to have a weak spot."

 

"If it didn't move so fast--" Her head whipped to the right, then the left, as the thing kept reappearing in different places. Her back pressed against his, they circled around. Listening for the tell tale sound of the wind, she lashed out blindly, before the thing appeared in front of her. Her fist connected with its jaw bone, and she was quick to follow with a hard kick to it's center. Just as she started after the staggering creature, it disappeared again. "There's wind... right before it shows up," she said. 

 

"Wind?" Dean couldn't hear any wind, but he could see that her bare handed blows were connecting every bit as hard as his and he had the advantage of using the butt end of a reinforced shotgun. And her reflexes were amazing. Feeling her back against his, he turned with her, cocking his head and concentrating. Then he heard it. A faint whoosh of air to his left. Taking aim, he leveled the shotgun at the height of it's neck and fired the instant it materialized.

 

A guttural screech cut short in a grisly gurgling sound that Dean recognized - he'd hit something vital. This time it faded in and out and flickered before it finally disappeared. “I don’t know how much it’s going to keep coming back for. Next time, we need to take it out. If you can get it on the ground, I’ll take its head off."

 

"You're good with your gun," she smirked, turning with him, her eyes seeking, "I mean the one in your hand," she added. This thing... where was it gonna come at them from?

 

Dean smirked right back. "I was just thinking how good you were with your hands. We make a good team, Barbie," he told her, the sincerity of his words tempered by the roguish grin he wore.

 

This time the tell tale wind was more of an explosive blast that knocked Buffy back into Dean, landing them both on their asses beneath a flurry of snarling fangs. With a vicious swipe of claws, it knocked the shotgun out of Dean's grip sending it hurling across the dirt.

 

"Alright?" she asked, whipping her leg around to block that creatures second attempt at clawing them and give him a chance to roll away. A second later, she sprang up and kicked it right above the big hole in it's chest. Once, twice, she avoided its claws, then struck a third time, giving it all she had. It tumbled backwards. From the corner of her eyes she saw Dean had his weapons ready. Moving closer to it, she stepped on its head, forcing it to the ground even as it writhed and fought. "Now!"

 

With both hands gripping the handle of his hunting knife, Dean came down with full force, sinking the seven inch blade through its neck. Deftly avoiding the spray of demon goo that spurted from it's insides, he didn't stop sawing through hide, flesh and bone until he'd severed clean through and Buffy was able to drop kick it's head into the canyon.

 

"Goooooaaaaaal!" Dean let out the victory cry as the beast's head dropped out of sight.

 

Breathing heavily, they watched until the body stopped twitching before he looked up at Buffy. Their gazes locked and his adrenaline surged. "That was fucking awesome! You rock!" 

 

"Didn't get a drop of gunk on me, you get major points for that," she answered, sliding her foot off the quivering body and walking to him. "You're pretty awesome yourself." They'd worked well together. Real well. Both now, and _before_ the creature arrived and interrupted their show. 

The heat in his eyes had her stomach muscles tightening. Something about him, right from the start... she wasn't usually like this, but it was like he didn't even have to try. She knew what she wanted. _Him._

 

Deciding to let tomorrow take care of itself, she reached out, grabbed both sides of his jacket and pulled him close, her mouth close to his. "I think we started a conversation earlier. I wanna know the ending."

 

“You mean the one where we were discussing how to handle a gun…” Dean answered, moving his hands around to her back, eyes never wavering from hers. “After seeing you in action, I think maybe you could give me a lesson or two…” He cut off his own words with a searing kiss.

 

When he dragged her up against the hard planes of his body, the friction ignited a firestorm, sending a blast of throbbing need to his core. Invading her mouth, he lifted her, letting out a low moan when her legs seized around his waist. His mind spun with desire and he wasn’t even sure how he made it to the car. The back door was still open they tumbled inside. Before her back hit the seat, he’d flicked her bra strap loose and his hands moved over her breasts, drawing nipples to stiff peaks as his mouth crashed against hers in a war of fervent kisses.

 

He tasted wild and hot on her lips. His mouth working against hers, his tongue moving at an increasingly fevered pitch. His hands were rough and gentle at the same time, touching, squeezing, making her ache and burn for more. More of him... more of this. She broke for air, and moaned as his mouth moved to her throat, biting her lightly before raining kisses downwards. Electrical charges went through her body. She clamped her legs tighter around him, raising her hips, grinding against him... needing, rubbing herself against his arousal.

 

So good, he felt so damned good. He made her feel better than she had in forever. A part of her knew there was a beast out there, that they should watch over it. But another part couldn't give a damn. She tugged on his shirt, pulling it up and once he raised his arms, over his head. For a moment, she had a clear view of his chiseled muscles. Her hands went to his chest, stroking him, them moving to his back, digging into his shoulders as she raised herself up. "Kiss me again, please..." she sought the heat of his mouth.

 

Every muscle in his body screamed at him to tear off her jeans and drive his cock into her right then and there, but he held back to look at her... to take her all in. Her green eyes brimmed with want and need and a smoldering heat shook him to his core. He returned a piercing green gaze, penetrating her just as surely as if he was inside her. 

He pulled the band from her hair so he could tangle his fingers in her wild blonde locks as he lifted her head and angled his mouth over hers. "God you're amazing..." he said, his voice a throaty whisper.This time the kiss was slow and purposeful, building with intensity as their bodies moved together. When she arched her back into him, he pulled open her blouse so he had full access to her, leaving a hot trail of kisses along the wing of her collar bone before moving across the swell of her breast.

Throwing her head back, she gave him better access, making a small sound of pleasure when his mouth scraped along her breast. Her stomach tensed, causing her chest to rise. God... did he know what he was doing, how he made her feel? She moved her hand up his bare back, to his nape, her fingers playing, tangling with short silky strands of his hair... dragging him closer. He was doing all this to her, and he called _her_ amazing?

His tongue circled the bud and he sucked and nipped at her nipples while his free hand moved between their legs and worked her jeans open. Her hips bucked against him and he let out a moan as his fingers slipped beneath her underwear and touched slick heat. Molten gold. God. He had to have her. "Buffy..." his mouth came back up to hers and he looked into her eyes as he slipped a finger inside. He gasped as her muscles seized around him with mindblowing force.

"Oh God... oh God," she said, her hot breaths leaving her quicker and quicker as she squirmed, then clenched around him, eyes squeezed shut. Unable to help herself, she was moving her hips, moving against his finger, wondering how it would feel to have him inside her... if this was so good... what would that be like... would she survive it?

 

White hot heat surged through her system as he teased her nipple, then gave a satisfying suck, then teased again. She was writhing mindlessly, needing him so bad, so bad she was ready to beg. Opening her eyes, she bent her head, kissing his ear, dipping her tongue inside. "Need you... oh God Dean, need you," she said, moaning as he continued to pleasure her with his finger. 

 

Groaning, Dean levered upright to his knees, deftly unbuckling his belt with one hand while reaching inside the pocket on the back of the front seat. Pulling out a trusty Trojan, he tore the foil open with his teeth as they both shimmied out of their pants. He was no stranger to maneuvering the back seat and he hadn't missed a beat. Hips wedged between her thighs, he locked his eyes on hers and drove inside, burying himself to the hilt.

 

 _"Fuck!"_ He gasped, the wind literally knocked from his lungs when she seized around him. She was unbelievably tight. Stars floated across his vision and he thought he just might pass out. But the look on her face brought him back into focus and slowly he pulled back and thrust again, instinctively syncing his movements with hers as they found their rhythm.  
She'd bowed back as far as possible when he entered her, clenching around him, gasping for air. Her eyes locked with his, her hands gripping his biceps, fingers digging in when she was afraid he'd stop. And then he was moving again, in and out, sending waves of pleasure spiraling through her. And God... that look in his eyes, it just...

Unable to take it, she lay all the way back, her head against he door. "Dean," she pulled him closer, her hands wandering up and down his back, her palms moving over muscles, her nails digging into him as waves of pleasure crashed into her. "Don't stop," she begged, kissing along his strong jaw, licking the seam of his mouth and pushing her tongue inside. He tasted so good... like whiskey and the outdoors and the sounds he made had her heart doing flip flops. He was everything she'd given up on ever finding again. Strong, brave, funny... and sexy, sexy hot, so hot.

 

Unfuckingbelievable. Everytime he tried to restrain himself, afraid he'd hurt her, she'd pull him back in for more until he was drilling into her with reckless abandon. "So good," the harsh whisper grated out through clenched teeth. "So. Fucking. Good. Buffy..." This was no Barbie - this was a real woman with moves he'd never imagined in his wildest dreams.

 

The Impala rocked and shimmied, axle squeaking and groaning as if caught up in a tornado as their bodies crashed together with increasing intensity. He knew he couldn't hold on much longer, but he had to have her first. All of her. Jerking his hips in a sudden twist, he lifted her leg and came at her from an angle he knew would catch her sweet spot. When she responded with a sharp cry of pleasure, he increased the pressure and pace. His own breaths coming in ragged pants, he felt the pressure building. Tight. So tight.

 

"Holy fucking sweet Jesus. Buff... please... please..." he'd never in his life begged for it, but he'd never wanted anything more than to feel her shatter around him.

Her head rolled back, her body tensing around him as he moved harder, faster, making her whisper his name over and over as her movements grew wilder. She wanted what he wanted, wanted it now... chased it. "Yes... yes, oh God." Her knee, lodged behind his back. She used it to pull him close each time he thrust, biting her lower lip as she started to see white lights behind her eyelid. "Dean ... now... now... Dean!" She started to shatter around him, her fingers digging into his shoulder, her mouth plastered up against his, muffling her cries as she came, her body clenching around his, urging him to come with her.

Jaw flexed, Dean gave two more powerful thrusts before chasing her over the edge and into bliss. His cock twitched inside her molten depths as she seized around him. Couldn't see. Couldn't breath. There was no existence beyond the rush of their combined euphoria. Crushing her against his chest, he kissed her, riding out the aftershocks with her until quaking turned to quivers and she finally relaxed in his arms.

"I think I'm dead," he said plainly, his mouth forming a smile against her cheek.

"Mmm." She brushed his mouth with hers, still holding him, still moving very slowly, enjoying his weight over her, the way their legs were slip sliding against each other, the rough material of his jeans rubbing her from his knees down. "Does that mean we're in heaven?" Blowing out a hot breath, she gave a low laugh. "Or maybe we deserve hell. This wasn't very... angelic." She wasn't gonna feel guilty about this, it had been too good. Whatever else happened, this was on of those 'good moments' in her life, and those were precious. Keepers.

"Sweetheart, if this is Hell, bring it on," he chuckled and kissed her.

Seeing a shadow cross the window, Dean jerked upright, pulling Buffy with him. He swiped his palm across the steamed up rear window and peered out to see his brother dousing acid on the beast they'd left for him. He flashed a cocky smile and gave a shout. "You got it covered there Sammy?"

"Oh my God," she said, her words spaced out, as she ducked down. "Your brother... he's here... he just... my clothes, Dean," she started to move her hand between his legs, under them, trying to find her blouse. "He saw... I mean he knows... stop laughing and do something." 

"No problem..." he nodded agreeably, his arousal twitching against her hand as she felt around. Still smiling, he dropped his head between her breasts and licked the salty sheen, scraping his teeth across what he knew had to be hypersensitive nipples. "Guess I'm not dead..." he nudged his hardening cock against her.

"Dean, I'm serious!" If they'd been alone... but his brother was out there. Grabbing at her clothes, she covered up, leaned over him and opened the door. "Out." She meant it, because he wasn't only not helping her, but he was making it harder for her to get dressed. Giving him exactly ten seconds to start pulling his pants up, she shoved him out and pulled the door shut.

His laughter had her glaring out the small area he'd defrosted on the window. Like he cared about that. She got dressed as quickly as she could, trying to ignore the slight aches and pains that reminded her how good they'd been together. Looked like GI Joe was James Bond in bed. 

She pushed the door open, and got out, self consciously straightening her clothes. Then she joined the brothers near the carcass of the demon, watching it sizzle and burn down to nothing as she put her hair back up in a pony tail.

"So hey Sam... you remember Buffy," Dean said cheerfully as he moved to her side and plucked his tee-shirt out of the waist of her jeans where it had gotten snagged. He pulled the shirt over his head, wincing as he worked his shoulder back into alignment. Seeing the way his brother was looking at him, he just grinned. "What? She's stronger than she looks."

"She's five foot two, Dean."

"Three. I'm five foot three," Buffy corrected. She wasn't about to argue about strength because then there might be questions about exactly what she'd done to his brother, which was nothing... back seat sex couldn't be painless. 

"Heh, trust me on this one Sammy..." Dean gave him a look that threatened to provide details. "You neglected to tell me that that thing," he nodded at the stinking mass of demon goo. "Can teleport. Had a hell of a time with it." He slid an appreciative gaze to Buffy. "But she's all kinds of tough. Not to mention flexible... good with her hands... really showed it who's boss."

Sam frowned. "You trying to tell me she's a dominatrix?"

"No, she's not." Buffy answered for Dean. She looked between the two guys, trying to figure out whether Sam was being serious, and whether she needed to deck Dean. Except whenever she looked over at him, she wanted to do a lot of things... not involving violence. 

Shaking his head, Sam smiled. She'd made him squirm by implying he and Dean were lovers... well two could play that game. And when you had Dean for a brother, you learned the rules real fast. 

"Is it gone?" Buffy hoped changing the topic would work.

"Yeah, that's it... it's gone."

"You say that like it was easy," she answered, kicking some dirt over the gooey mess already sinking into the earth. Her gaze went to Dean. 

"I'll be... ah, in the car. Nice meeting you, Buffy." Sam had to force himself not to laugh at her name as he walked away. At the car, he turned and looked at them for a sec, before getting inside. Seeing the windows were fogged up, he unrolled his. Then he leaned over and unrolled the drivers too. He wasn't even gonna look at the back seat.

Dean cocked his head and looked at her, wanting to ask her where she was from and how she'd come to be a hunter... and what the fuck was up with that? He _never_ wanted to know details about the girls he was with. But Buffy... she wasn't just any girl. That much was clear.

Moving over to her, he hooked his fingers in the belt loops of her jeans and pulled her flush against him. Looking down at her, he slid his hands around to the small of her back to hold her there. "So... where'd you get the name Buffy anyway?"

It was a start...

She didn't even aim a self conscious look toward the car. She was _that_ wrapped up in Dean. Everything about him drew her. Putting her hands flat on the sides of his hips, and tilting her head to the side, she answered. "My mom slapped it on me a few minutes after I was born. Must have been the meds." What else could she say in defense of her name? "Your turn. Got a last name?" She needed something to call him other than 'best night of my life, Dean.'

"Winchester." He looked at her, smiling like a fool. "Okay... and here's a first for me. But I'm going to go out on a limb and ask yours."

"Summers." She grinned back. "I know... normal."

There was a brief silence. Okay, it was to be expected. Not like Buffy was used to capping a night of slaying off with some really hot back seat sex with a guy that... yeah, made her wish he'd been one of the scoobs... back when they used to call themselves that. "I live in Sunnydale," she offered, pulling the rubber band off her hair and letting it down again. "It's south of here. You're from..." she cocked her head. She'd heard some sort of drawl when he spoke, but wasn't sure. 

"Lawrence, Kansas, originally. But all over now..." he said, running his fingers through her hair the moment she set it free. "Sunnydale gets a lot of demon traffic. Sammy says it sits on some sort of mystical convergence zone or some shit." He looked into her eyes, holding her head with the back of her hand. "That why you learned to hunt?"

She let him cradle her head, fighting the urge to close her eyes and lean in for that kiss... the one she felt was or should be coming. "It's... complicated." He'd said from 'all over.' Was that some sort of hint? "Maybe when you have a couple hours or... days... I could explain it to you."

"I think I could find a couple hours..." he pressed closer until their bodies were touching from hip to chest. "Maybe even a couple days..." he added, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. It wasn't just a line to get her in bed. His lips brushed hers and his breath hitched before he kissed her as if sealing the commitment.

"Yeah?" His kiss silenced her. It silenced the questions in her head and heart too. The ones that had told her from the moment she'd seen him, that he was a player. The ones that warned this was probably a one off. The ones that asked if she really thought there was anything special about tonight from GI-Joe's perspective, the ones that betted he left a lot of Gi-Janes around the country. It didn't matter. Right here, right now mattered. And maybe... maybe tonight _was_ different for him, like it had been for her.

Instead of over thinking, she wound her arms around his shoulders, molding her frame to his as she tangled her tongue with his again. _Find the time. If not for my story, then for this._ The soft kiss quickly grew less controlled, both of them taking, wanting, needing... knowing like every good thing, this would end. She didn't wanna let him go yet, though. Didn't wanna watch him walk to his car, get in, and drive away. One more... just one more minute, she told herself, refusing to allow him to pull away.

Whatever was happening between them was raw and powerful. Overwhelming. She'd gotten under his skin, inside him and enveloped him all at once. And what had his mind spinning out of control was that instead of running, he wanted to stay. He wanted to take her up against the tree right there and bury himself deep inside her, possessing her and giving himself over to her all at once.

"Buffy..." he whispered her name, pressing his forehead against hers as he drew in deep breaths. "Do you have someplace we can go tonight? I can ditch Sam... leave him with the car."

Her breaths mingled with his. She nodded as his words pierced through all the emotions raging through her. "Yeah... my place. Let's go." Brushing her mouth against his one more time, she pulled away and watched him walk to his car. He was coming home with her. A part of her couldn't believe it... the part that said happiness wasn't meant for Slayers.

* * *

Best three days of her life, and now it was ending. She sat on the stairs with Dean, arms touching, thighs pressing together, both of them staring out into the street and waiting for Sam. Dean's stuff was in a duffel bag, at his feet. 

Her heart shouldn't be breaking. Not over a guy she'd met just three days ago. Just because they had so much in common. Just because he knew... knew about the things that went boom in the dark. Just because when he kissed her, the rest of the world went black and all that remained was a girl and guy... that was no reason for this.

"He's late." She tapped her fingers on her knee.

"Yeah," he said staring straight ahead, miserable. Maybe Sam was just trying to give him a little extra time. He was good like that. And of all people, Sam knew this was something different. But right now, the extra time was just like pulling off the band-aid too damn slow. It hurt. More than he cared to admit, even to himself.

"Maybe the car broke." She could only hope. Nah, things like that only happened at the worst times.

Dean turned an injured look on her. "That rod is cherry," he said. He moved his hand over her thigh and squeezed, cocking a smirk. "You trying to imply these hands are anything less than magic? The Impala purrs like a kitten." He turned his head back out to look down the road. "No... he'll be here," he sighed. "Old reliable, that Sam."

"I have it on first hand knowledge, they're magic," she moved her hand over his, threading her fingers with his. There was some more silence. She thought back to everything they'd shared about themselves. It had been easier for her, telling him what she was, The Slayer. He'd made fun of the title, but in short bursts here and there told her about himself, his history. She was sure that he'd kept a lot back, but he'd told her enough to understand what made Dean Winchester tick. And a large part of it... was the job. Family and his job.

A lump rose in her throat as she studied his profile. "I'm gonna miss you."

Dean's expression steeled against her words, jaw hardening, lips pursed tight. He blinked and dammit if there wasn't moisture brimming his eyes. He swallowed hard and squeezed her hand, but didn't say anything for a long time. When he did, it was almost desperate. "Come with us." He turned and locked his eyes on hers, cupping her cheek as he searched her face. "I mean it. Come with us."

 _Come with us._ Oh God, how could he ask her that? How could he be so cruel, make her heart hurt so much more? Always... always it came down to this. Her. Making the hard choices. Blinking back her tears, she nodded yes, but said, "can't... you know I can't, Dean. But if I could..." She licked her lips and closed her eyes. "Stay with me," she whispered.

His eyes squeezed shut, dislodging a single tear. Scrubbing it away with his arm, his features hardened as he looked away. Jaw set in a line chiseled from stone, he shook his head. He knew she couldn't leave any more than he could stay. Sunnydale was parked on a Hellmouth and he'd had the balls to fall in love with the Slayer. Damn him and his fucking balls anyway.

"Can't..." was all he could muster in a raspy response.

He heard the impala before he saw it. Standing, he slung the duffel over his shoulder and held his hand out to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "One week... Sam said this one shouldn't take more than a week. Then I'll be back," he vowed, throat tightening around the words.

She met is eyes, didn't demand a promise. He'd already told her couldn't make any. Nodding, she gave him a watery smile. "Go." She swallowed, saw something in his eyes, and nodded again. "Go."

Letting her go, he nodded, scrubbing his arm across his eyes before turning away and facing the impala as it pulled up. He didn't even bother making Sam get out so he could drive. His hand on the door handle, he paused a beat, heart pounding so loud he was sure she could hear it with those enhanced senses. He hoped she could. With a flick of his wrist he opened the door, tossed his duffel in the back and got in. With his arm bent in the open window, he glanced in the side mirror... angling it so he could see her.

"Drive, Sammy..." he said, his voice hollow. "Just drive."

Barely glancing at his brother, Sam instantly pulled away from the curb and took off. He didn't need to look. He knew this was different. Yeah. "So, I found out that over the last five years, five students have gone missing..."

"Yeah... the job. Right," Dean nodded for him to go on, though he wasn't listening. Sam droned on as they hit the open road and Dean stared out the window.

As they left the Welcome to Sunnydale sign in their rear view mirror, he did a double-take and looked behind them to read the scrawled graffiti, which might have been written in blood - "Beware the Slayer." A small smirk pulled at the edge of Dean's mouth as he turned back around. That was his girl. _His girl._ That's when he knew he had it bad. Yeah... he'd be back.


End file.
